Meeting Mr Potridge
by Flanclanman
Summary: Snarry one-shot. Written in my early days while a bit drunk (so forgive me my awful writing and plot). Anyway; Harry goes for a drink after a really horrid day and meets - and has sex with - someone he doesn't expect.


Five years. Five years they'd been married, but it hadn't taken long for Harry and Ginny's marriage to fall apart once they discovered that Harry was unable to give Ginny the family she wanted. It was three weeks since their divorce, and now, on a cold Saturday evening in November, Harry was making his miserable way to the Hog's Head for a good pint or five of ale to drown himself in. He'd never been one to drink his troubles away before, but these days he found himself over-whelmed by everything. His work load was piling up as well and he was starting to feel the crushing helplessness that came from working so hard for nothing.

He arrived at the Hog's Head absolutely frozen. It was a relief to step into the stuffiness of the pub and be able to take off his coat and gloves. He grabbed a stool at the bar and ordered a strong drink, relishing the fact that with a quick glamour charm, he could seamlessly blend in with the small crowd already there without any staring or awkward questions about the divorce. He didn't change a stupid amount, just the length of his hair and colour of his eyes, that particular night he'd decided to go for short hair and brown eyes. He forewent the glasses too, as he usually did in public nowadays, having realised that after a while they became another of his recognisable features. All in all, Harry felt he looked very generic, and that could only be a good thing.

As his evening progressed and his mind became fuzzier, Harry began to get that odd tingly feeling one gets when one is being observed rather closely. So he looked around and found the perpetrator.

Severus Snape sat at the end of the bar staring at him with an unreadable expression over a large glass of something vividly green and smokey. Harry stared back in shock. To say he was surprised would be an understatement for he'd expected never to see his old professor again after the war. But, Harry knew that he looked very different to how he normally did, so he didn't understand why Snape was looking at him like that. He frowned and got up.

"Can I help you?" he asked when he approached Snape's stool.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Drink?" he said. Harry blinked and mouthed the word dumbly.

"Er... what?"

The other eyebrow rose.

"Do you want a drink?" Snape asked slowly, as if speaking to an invalid.

Harry's mouth opened and closed a few times. Never in his life would he have thought Snape would offer him a drink... "Er... yeah... sure."

Snape kicked the stool next to him so it stuck out.

"Sit."

Harry complied immediately and tried to stop his hands from shaking while Snape ordered them both drinks. Snape got another one of the strange smoking green things, while Harry got the same pint of ale he'd had all night. He shot a strange look at Snape, who glared as if daring Harry to challenge him.

"Thanks... So what are you having?" Harry asked timidly.

Snape stared at him again for a few moments before speaking.

"It's absinthe."

"It's... smoking..."

"It's not Muggle absinthe."

"It looks dangerous."

"It is."

Harry blinked and Snape took another sip. The smoke from the drink could be seen coming out of his nose when he swallowed.

"Does that not burn your throat?" Harry asked, wincing a little.

"A little, but it just adds to the experience." Snape replied. He looked up at Harry, "Would you like to try some?"

Harry stared at the drink warily, but nodded.

It was the strong taste of aniseed that hit him first and Harry found he rather enjoyed, but the burn kicking in almost instantly, searing down his throat painfully. He chocked.

"Oh..._ bugger_!" He narrowed his eyes at Snape whose eyes were glittering with unconcealed amusement.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked through a snort.

Harry glared as viciously as he could while the room spun around him.

"So it burns _a little_, does it?" He spat irritably, his voice hoarse from the torture he'd endured with that drink.

Snape chuckled.

"You didn't ask me if it would burn _you_, you asked if it burnt _me_."

Harry huffed.

"No matter what I say, you'll use it against me, won't you?"

Snape smirked, but said nothing, returning to his drink. Harry took a large gulp of his own, revelling in the coolness of it slipping down his abused gullet. He let out a contented sigh and heard Snape's soft chuckle again.

"What's your name?" Snape asked softly.

Harry was so taken aback by the tone of the voice and the question itself that he blurted before he could think.

"Harry." _Bugger!_ He thought,_ Great job, Potter. You're obviously a _master_ of disguise._ For some reason his inner voice spoke in Snape's teaching voice.

Lost as he was in his brief, but strange thoughts, Harry didn't notice Snape's tiny flinch at the sound of his name.

"I'm Severus Snape." Snape said, offering his hand to Harry, who shook it briefly... and then, once again, blurted without thinking.

"I know." _What is _wrong_ with me today?_

Snape looked a bit surprised.

"I-I mean... that is to say... I recognised you from..." _Shit. What's Snape been in recently?_ "your article about the new version of Wolfsbane." _Dodged the bullet there. Good going, Potter._

Snape's eyebrows both rose and he leaned in eagerly.

"You read my piece about the improvements and developments?"

Harry smiled, now _here_ was something about Potions he did know.

"Oh yes. It was brilliant; I'm always amazed at just how much easier you've managed to make it for werewolves everywhere. I just wish more people had the motivation to learn to brew it."

"The problem is that people still believe that werewolves bring their ailment on themselves."

"Exactly! Which is ridiculous! I mean, I work in St. Mungo's, and I see so many children coming in week after week, suffering because of their problems with the changes to their bodies and it's just revolting that _anyone_ could think that someone would _want_ to be put through that torment..."

Snape's lips turned up at the corners as Harry's speech became more and more passionate.

"... there's a girl, one of my patients, she's nine. And she got bitten _in her own house_. I mean, how are you supposed to protect yourself against beasts like Greyback when they're perfectly coherent!" Harry took a deep breath and looked off into space. He continued in an empty voice, "She's nine, Snape. _Nine. _She should be enjoying the sunshine and playing with her friends, not holed up in a hospital or too afraid to step out of the house just in case someone realises what she is... It's just not right."

Harry turned around and looked Snape straight in the eye.

"It's the full moon tonight." He said, "She probably won't live through it because, even though she has Wolfsbane, her body is just too fragile to be taking so much punishment from the change." _Oh, god, she'll be the fourth this week, _Harry thought,_ the fourth patient this week to die because of something that can't be helped..._

Harry barely noticed when his body started shaking. He knew the grief would eventually get to him, but he had hoped it would be in the privacy of his own home.

"Harry..." Harry's head snapped up and met Snape's unreadable eyes. He'd almost completely forgotten about him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Yes?"

"It doesn't do to dwell on the things that we cannot change." Snape said quietly. "I'm sure you've done your absolute best for her, but it's always up to fate in the end."

Harry sighed, "I know. Good god, I know." He laughed bitterly. "Well, you know mostly why I'm here drinking my misery away now. What's your story?"

Snape snorted dryly.

"I'm trying to forget." He said.

"A woman?" Harry guessed.

"Not quite."

"Shame, we could have found something in common."

Snape looked at him questioningly.

"My wife left me. She took my family too. Damn bitch... as if it's my fault."

"As if what's your fault?" Snape asked.

Harry stared into his nearly empty goblet.

"I can't give her children... and it seems like that's the only real reason she wanted me." He said angrily.

"Ah, I understand. Have you considered trying Potions, or adopting?"

"I suggested both, but Potions would be hazardous to use because of the reason I can't give her children and she said adopting wouldn't be good enough because it wouldn't be _our_ child."

Snape remained silent, but Harry could see him sneering into his glass.

"I know. A bitch, right?"

"Indeed."

"Well, I've used you enough as an agony aunt. Come on, tell me about this person you're trying to forget."

Snape snorted softly, "It's not one person, so much as four."

"Get around a lot, did you?" Harry said playfully. Snape glared half-heartedly.

"No... I killed one of them, left one of them to die, betrayed one of them, and became infatuated with the last of them. Though not necessarily in that order." Snape said emptily. _Dumbledore... Malfoy Senior... Draco Malfoy and... Someone else. _Harry couldn't figure out who on earth could capture Snape's heart, but he instantly found himself dying of curiosity._  
_

"I take it you never managed to make anything of your... er... infatuation then?"

Snape sighed heavily.

"I'd rather not talk about it. It's ridiculously stupid of me to have shared my weaknesses with a stranger as it is. Suffice it to say that my... interest in that person is _extremely_ badly placed."

"I think I understand."

"Do you want another?" Snape asked, pointing at Harry's empty goblet.

"I'll pay. And I'll have what you're having." Harry smiled. Snape snorted again.

"That should be interesting."

"Yeah, well, I fancy something stronger than ale."

"Would Firewhiskey not be less harmful to you?"

Harry laughed, "Probably. But it wouldn't be nearly as amusing for you." He said with a grin.

"Too true."

...

Eventually Harry got used to the burn, but was still visibly shocked whenever the smoke came out of his nose. His expression was a source of endless drunken hilarity in Snape's opinion.

"You're shteamed, Shnape." Harry slurred with a goofy grin.

"That's quite probably possibly true." Snape responded, "However! At least I can almost still form coherent... _sentences!_"

Harry giggled uncontrollably, falling off his chair in the process.

"OOF, oww..." he grumbled from the floor.

Snape threw back his head and laughed too. He got up and offered his hand to Harry.

"Come on, Mr. Harry. I'll take you home."

"You don't know where my home is!" Harry said loudly, taking the hand and allowing himself to be pulled upright.

"No. But I know where mine is. And you're far too drunk to be anywhere alone."

"Non-snuse, you jusht want a shag." Harry prodded Snape in the chest.

"Oh, damn, you've found me out." Snape deadpanned.

Harry laughed again.

"I never knew you could be funny."

"Is it against the rules?"

"Of course! You're supposed to be a miserable git!"

"Come on. Home we go. Grab your coat... or cloak... or whatever it is you wear."

They grabbed the coat on the way out, then made their weaving way down Hogsmeades main road.

"So... where're we goin'?" Harry asked, grabbing onto Snape's arm to steady himself.

"Hogwarts."

"Oooooh! Haven't been there for YEARS!"

"You went to Hogwarts?" Snape frowned.

"'Course I did."

"Why don't I remember you then?"

"Oh..." Harry stopped stumbling, "Err... well, it's a big school, innit? Must've been one of the less memorable ones."

"Right..." Snape said suspiciously. "What did you say your last name was?"

"Pot—" Harry coughed loudly to cover his mistake, "—ridge!"

"Potridge?" Snape said sceptically.

"Yup! That's me name, don't wear it out!" Harry laughed as loudly as he could in a manner that would have been convincing had he not been smashed.

"Alright then. Mr. _Harry_ _Potridge._" Snape could obviously not put two and two together in his inebriated state. "Even though I _know_ you're lying. I'm still going to let you stay..."

"Really? Wow..." Harry couldn't help beaming.

Snape grunted.

"You knoooooooow..." Harry began, sidling up to Snape smoothly, "If you _do_ want a shag, I'd be all for it. I'm about fed up of women now anyway, and I've always wanted to try something out with a bloke."

Snape's head turned slowly in Harry's direction, and he blinked slowly.

"Mr. Harry," Snape said with a smirk, "Are you asking me to deflower you?"

Harry grinned stupidly, "I do believe I am, Mr. Severus."

Snape's smirk grew wider, "Let us away then!"

"To Hogwarts!" Harry shouted and, suddenly feeling like a teenager again, ran towards the school as fast as he could. He could hear Snape following quickly behind him and couldn't help laughing out loud again.

...

They finally arrived at the main doors of Hogwarts completely out of breath. Harry turned around and leaned against the huge doors, staring at Snape standing in front of him.

"So, I'm guessing I'm the girl in this situation." He said, biting his lower lip shyly.

Snape growled under his breath and launched himself at Harry, pinning him against the doors.

"You honestly have no idea just how provocative you look, do you?" He said, staring deeply into Harry's eyes. Harry grinned.

"Show me."

Snape growled again and crushed his lips against Harry's. Harry moaned, loving the feeling of being out of control that Snape inspired in him. He went to wind his arms around Snape's neck, but his hands were immediately gripped and pushed up above his head. Harry couldn't help the waves of arousal the motion stirred.

The doors, at some point, were pushed open and Harry and Snape stumbled in, never once losing contact. They made their desperate way down to Snape's quarters, bumping into walls and kissing fiercely, dragging each other into alcoves for a clumsy grope.

When they got to Snape's quarters, Snape could barely pant the password at the door. The door closed and Snape pushed Harry through to the living area. They latched onto one another again and began to pull off their outdoor clothing. Harry moved backwards until his knees hit the arm of a sofa and he fell backwards giggling.

He lay on his back, his shirt open, with his legs spread over the side of the sofa and the arm, breathing deeply... staring up at Snape. His eyes were glassy with desire and his skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat.  
Snape raked his eyes over the sight before him.

"What a perfect picture you make, _Mr._ _Potridge_." He purred, walking slowly round the sofa to kneel beside Harry's panting body. He traced a long finger down Harry's heaving chest, scraping lightly over Harry's covered nipple. Harry closed his eyes and let Snape take control again. His breathing hitched as Snape's finger came into contact with the exposed skin of his stomach, travelling lower and lower... and moving up. Harry whimpered in anticipation and he could almost sense Snape's smirk. Snape tormented him with touches that were too light and didn't go far enough; tormented him to the point that Harry was sure that the moment Snape really touched him he would just explode instantly. The touches continued for what felt like hundreds of blissful, torturous hours. Harry writhed and whined and craved more, but was ignored.

"Oh, _god_, _please_, Snape." Harry whimpered.

"Please what, _Harry?_" Snape asked innocently, now rubbing at Harry's inner thigh sinfully gently.

"Please... please touch me!" Harry gasped.

"But Harry, I am." Snape said, and moved his head so that he could speak into Harry's ear. This time, he spoke in his low purr, "What you mean to ask, Mr. Potridge, I'm _sure_, is whether I'll fuck you." Snape's hand moved down Harry's thigh, closer and closer and... moved around his thigh to rub at Harry's arse.

Harry moaned loudly.

"Oh, god! Anything! Please! Just _soon_, before I die from this."

Snape chuckled lowly, and moved fluidly so that he was kneeling between Harry's legs on the sofa. He lifted both legs up so that Harry's ankles were resting on his shoulders. Never once breaking eye contact, Snape moved his hands slowly, oh-so slowly down Harry's legs to the waist band of his trousers. Harry groaned at the feeling of Snape's hands on his bare waist as Snape pulled the trousers up and off him. Harry breathed deeply, trying to still his pounding heart, but he couldn't. He could tell Snape was enjoying himself immensely. Next, Snape moved back down his legs and hooked his fingers in the waist of his boxers, staying there for a few long moments to languidly stroke the soft skin there.

"Do you get off on torturing me?" Harry tried to pant out. Snape merely smirked softly and pulled the boxers off, freeing Harry's throbbing cock. Harry couldn't hold back a desperate moan as the cool air hit his sensitive member.

"Mr. Potridge," Snape spoke softly, "This may hurt a little. I thought I'd warn you."

Usually Harry would have been a little scared, but he so badly needed _something_ done that he couldn't force himself to care how much pain Snape would put him through.

Snape muttered an incantation under his breath and his fingers were slicked with lubricant. He dragged his middle finger from Harry's lower back all the way up to just below his balls, once again torturously slowly, then dragged it back down to Harry's tight entrance. He circled it lightly while Harry writhed, then gently pushed it in.

Harry threw his head back as Snape's finger entered him. It didn't hurt exactly, but it was a bit tight, he could tell the worst was yet to come. Snape began moving his finger in and out smoothly, the friction causing Harry to buck his hips up and whimper pitifully. When Snape was sure Harry was alright with the one finger, he slowly inserted another.

This time, Harry felt a burn. He yelped, but Snape quietened him by leaning down for a kiss. The burning subsided and Snape continued moving his fingers, caressing his insides languidly. They brushed against something within him that made him moan helplessly and push back on them. Snape smirked and hit it again and again.

"Welcome to the friendlier side of your prostate, Mr. Potridge."

"Oh... god..." Harry breathed.

Another finger entered him, but Harry was too lost to care about the pain. He needed something bigger thought.

"Snape," He rasped between ragged breaths, "I need... you."

Snape groaned, "Finally." and quickly divested of his trousers. He positioned himself in front of Harry's tight entrance, bracing himself with one hand on Harry's hip, the other on one of Harry's legs.

"Prepare yourself, Potridge." He murmured.

He pushed in quickly. Harry and Snape both cried out in pleasure. Snape moved in and out steadily, bumping Harry's prostate with every thrust. Harry could feel his orgasm building up soon and Snape could obviously tell, for he quickly wrapped his hand around Harry's weeping erection.

As Harry suspected he came almost the moment that Snape touched him. His orgasm rolled over him almost painfully hard and he shouted out loudly. Snape felt his muscles contract around his length and was also over-powered by his own orgasm.

"Harry..." he choked breathily as he came.

He collapsed limply on Harry, breathing hard. Both still panting, they stared into each other's eyes. Harry started giggled.

"That..." he said, "was amazing. I can't believe I've been missing out on this." He leaned in and gave Snape a hard kiss, before dropping back and letting himself pass out with a smile. The last thing he heard was Snape's contented chuckle.

...

When Harry woke up, the first thing he noticed was that he was very comfortable, and warm. The second thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone. A lazy smile drifted onto his face and he lay spooned in Severus Snape's arms. He knew he probably should have been freaked out at the fact that he had just shagged his former professor, but he simply couldn't bring himself to care too much. He turned over and gazed at Snape's relaxed sleeping features.

Slowly, one of the eyes opened slightly and the lips twitched up.

Then it all went wrong.

Snape's eyes both snapped open completely and he sat up abruptly, staring at Harry like he was the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen. His usually pale skin had gone a sickly shade of white and his eyes were wide and panicky.

Harry frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Snape gaped.

"Potter!"

Harry's heart stopped and he reached up to his hair to tug on it. _Bugger!_ He thought as he gripped his usual thick black hair rather than his disguised short brown. Snape would hate him... hate him even more so than he used to. Harry couldn't believe he'd been so stupid. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out but a whining sort of sound one makes when distressed.

Snape's face contorted from shock and panic to a blank mask, but Harry could have sworn he saw something out of place flicker in Snape's eyes.

"Get out." Snape said, getting up off the sofa and gathering his clothes. He refused to make eye contact.

Harry jumped off the sofa and ran up to Snape.

"No... no, please don't make me leave." He begged, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to trick you or anything I just... I need to look different when I go out and I didn't think... I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, god! I'm sorry."

Snape remained completely still with his back to Harry, and stared at the ground.

"Get out, _Potter_." He hissed.

Harry grabbed Snape's arm.

"Please listen to me... I know you hate me. And I'm really sorry you didn't know it was me... but," Harry pulled a little at Snape's sleeve, trying to get him to turn around, "you liked me yesterday. Why is it so different now just because of who I am?"

Snape turned around and stared into Harry's now tear-filled eyes. His expression remained carefully blank. Harry lifted one of his hands and gently cupped Snape's cheek, rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin there. Snape forced himself not to lean into the touch.

"Potter..." he said in a strained voice, "Stop it..."

"You don't want me to leave." Harry said with certainty, "And I don't want to go... why are you telling me to?"

Snape rubbed his face anxiously.

"I... can't let you stay."

"Why not?"

Snape leaned against his wall, putting his face in one of his hands.

"Because if you stay I'll never want you to leave..." he whispered.

Harry's hand dropped from where it was hovering and fell limply at his side. His shoulders slumped and his jaw hung open. _Me... _He thought,_ the last person is me..._

"You... you're... um..."

Snape looked up and nodded.

"Fuck..." Harry whispered.

Snape snorted, "Indeed." He said, "Well, now you know my dirty little secret, could you put some clothes on and leave? Remember to close the door behind you."

Harry looked down at himself and blushed deeply when he saw that he was still only wearing an open shirt and a pair of socks. Then he looked back up at Snape.

"Are... Are you sure I need to leave?" he asked very timidly, "I mean... I wouldn't mind staying..."

"Stop those thoughts before they start, Potter."

"But—"

"No!" Snape shouted, "I've spent _six fucking years_ in lo—this situation. I never had any hopes. So don't you _dare_ give me any, Potter."

Harry felt like crying, "But... but I... I'm a _nice_ _person!_ I'm not going to hurt you, Snape." He said, walking towards him.

He reached up to hold Snape's face in his hands when he was within touching distance. Snape let his eyes slip closed.

"I don't shag people for kicks, you know." Harry said lightly. Snape snorted softly and opened his eyes again.

"Six years, Potter." He reminded Harry. Then he added in a quieter, softer tone, "Don't stay here if you'll get bored of me..."

Harry smiled, "I could never get bored of you." And with that, tilted his head up and kissed Snape softly. Snape smiled into the kiss.

"In that case, we should _really_ go to bed." He whispered in Harry's ear, "I don't think we quite got there last night."

Harry laughed, "No not quite."

...

Later that day, they lay under the sheets sweaty and contented. Harry was tucked comfortably under Snape's arm.

"_Harry Potridge."_ Snape said irritably, "I must have been ridiculously drunk if I couldn't figure that out."

"Hey! It's not easy to come up with a good fake name when you're around." Harry chuckled, "You're very intimidating, you know."

"Was it seriously the best you could come up with?"

"Oh shut up and let's do it again."


End file.
